Seeds of Suspicion
by Allocin
Summary: What convinced Sirius that Remus was the spy? Secrets are deadly weapons.


TITLE: Seeds of Suspicion   
AUTHOR: Allocin   
SUMMARY: _"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter."_ - Lupin, PoA. What led Sirius to that fateful conclusion?   
RATING: G   
CATEGORIES: General/Angst   
CHARACTERS: Remus, Sirius, James, Lily   
TIMELINE: Post-MWPP, pre-Halloween, (c. mid-1981)   
WARNINGS: Vague hints of former slashy activity   
A/N: Handwritten and then typed - in 3 hours. My tendons hurt right now.   
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the rights. This is technically illegal, but as I make no profit, please don't sue. 

---

The house was dark, though by no means uninhabited. Lit only by a weak strip of the waxing moon, Sirius sat at a dusty kitchen table, his cigarette end glowing in the gloom. The very air was cautious around him, not daring to move lest it startle this man, whose muscles were coiled tight with worry and anger. He had been there since sunset many hours before, having decided to surprise an old friend who had somehow slipped out of contact. But Remus hadn't been home, which had surprised Sirius. According to Dumbledore, who had supplied the address, Remus was unemployed again. 

So Sirius, like the good friend he was, had waited. And waited. And waited. It was now past two in the morning, and his eyes felt like sandpaper. Just as he was about to give up and go home to brood and sleep, he heard the distinct sounds of someone Apparating at the bottom of the path. Sirius stood and peeked out the window, the lit cigarette falling forgotten from his shocked mouth at what he saw. 

There was Remus, yes, but who was that next to him? Only Severus Snape, most slimy Slytherin on the planet. Half-formed suspicions danced with rising rage in his gut as he stormed to the front door and almost yanked it off its hinges. Remus looked up from his hushed conversation and paled. Half-turning to see, Snape merely sneered before Disapparating, leaving Remus and Sirius staring at each other across the long length of the small garden. 

"Hello Sirius," Remus greeted quietly. Sirius did not do or say anything, for which he was immensely proud, because what he wanted to do was beat some sense into Remus' obviously addled brain. Remus slipped past him in the doorway, moving straight to the kitchen to make some Irish tea - complete with whisky. If Sirius' eye had not been twitching, he might have seen how badly Remus' hands shook, or the new scar peeking out from his collar. "Would you like some tea?" Remus asked in that same calm tone that Sirius often found infuriating. Like now, for instance. 

"No I don't want some bloody tea!" he exploded, "Where have you been? And what in hell were you doing with Snivellus of all people?" He slammed the door so hard the windows shook. Remus, for his part, did not react except to drop his saucer on the floor. Sirius had forgotten what an odd thing this was for the ever-careful Remus to do. 

"You're not my mother, Sirius. Where I go and with whom is entirely my own affair," he said coolly. Sirius began to tremble with barely contained anger at such a casual brush-off. 

"'Entirely your own affair'?" he barked. Remus gave him a sharp look that he completely ignored. "We've been so worried about you. James and Lily, Peter and me. You never visit, you haven't written. Dumbledore says you can't keep a job, that you never stay in one place for more than a month." The anger had left his voice to be replaced by genuine concern. And hurt. "You haven't given me one fire-call. I thought I meant more to you than that." 

Remus opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them. Sirius was near enough to touch, but Remus didn't dare. They had left those days at Hogwarts, in the realm of fond memory. Instead he picked up his teacup and moved to the dusty table. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs, evidence of how little he had been in the small cottage. Sirius sat opposite him, having regained his guarded Auror exterior. Remus sipped on his tea, undeniably grateful for its sweet warmth as it glided down his throat. He had had a trying week, and really wanted to sleep. But first, Sirius. 

"How have you been?" he asked awkwardly when the silence stretched. Sirius pinched his lips into a thin line. 

"I've missed you," he said candidly. Remus frowned at the unexpected answer. 

"I've been busy," he murmured vaguely. Sirius snorted in disbelief, raising the hackles on Remus' neck. "I might not have a paying job, but I still work for Dumbledore," he said icily. 

"I haven't seen you at a meeting for months," Sirius snapped. 

"My work doesn't require the whole Order to know, and it's best I don't know anything about them either." 

"What are you, a _spy_?" Sirius spat. Remus narrowed his eyes at him. 

"What if I was? What if I rolled up my sleeve and showed you a Dark Mark? What would you do?" Sirius gave him a weighty look, sitting unusually still in his chair. It frightened Remus slightly, having not witnessed the change from the boy who could never stay still at school, to this aloof man in front of him. 

"Show me," Sirius said. Remus blinked and leaned back in his chair. 

"What?" 

"Show me your forearm." 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I don't have to prove myself to you." 

"Are you afraid, Lupin?" Sirius taunted, rising to his feet. Remus knew it was dire when Sirius used his surname. He bit his lip, the only outward sign of anxiety he ever displayed. 

"There was a time you trusted me implicitly, Sirius. Why don't you anymore?" he asked softly. Sirius halted in his slow pace around the side of the table. 

"Back then, I knew you more intimately than anyone else," he said at length, "And you knew me. But we've grown apart. You've changed, but I don't know how." Remus was surprised how closely their thoughts had paralleled, before Sirius lunged at his arm. Werewolf reflexes were much faster and he twisted out of his seat. "I don't trust you because you Apparated in with Severus _fucking_ Snape, after months without any word." His voice was rising again, but Sirius didn't care. He felt hurt, bewildered, betrayed, and yet had the maddening desire to grab Remus and kiss him senseless. 

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Remus said with that tight control that sent warning bells off in Sirius' head - the wolf was snapping at the door. 

"Just show me your damn arm!" he growled. Remus took another step back, away from Sirius' twitching fingers. 

"No. If you don't trust me, you don't deserve to see. After all our years together, you should know if I would ever go to You-Know-Who," he said. Sirius knocked the kitchen table flying with a roar of frustration. It clattered against the far wall, two legs broken and tea soaking into the disturbed dust. 

"Last chance, Moony," Sirius said into the deadly quiet, his voice vaguely pleading as he offered his hand. Remus held his arm protectively to his chest and shook his head 'no'. There were tears in his eyes as Sirius stormed out of the house and Disapparated at the gate. 

Shuddering, he drew his wand and fixed the table, then cleaned up the shattered crockery and suffocating layer of dust. Feeling an ache in his bones far beyond his twenty-one years, Remus collapsed on the lumpy sofa. Between tracking down various well hidden werewolf packs, avoiding Death Eaters and Ministry officials alike, trying to feed and home himself, encountering Severus unexpectedly on his last mission, and now this, he felt himself quickly approaching the limit of what he could take. He found himself wishing for the easy days, when the Marauders roamed Hogwarts and his worst worry was the next full moon. It felt so much longer than four years ago. 

With a long suffering sigh, he pulled a sleeping potion - a gift from Dumbledore - out of his pocket and chugged it down. Oblivion was not long after. 

---

Sirius did not return to his flat, nor go to Dumbledore. He Apparated straight in front of his best friend's house and pounded on the door until James stumbled down the stairs to stop the racket. "Padfoot, what -?" 

"It's Remus," Sirius gasped, feeling tears on his cheeks and not caring. James ushered him in to the dimly lit living room, wiping sleepy dust from his eyes. 

"Who is it, James?" Lily called sleepily from the top of the stairs, baby Harry in her arms. 

"It's only me. Sorry to wake you," Sirius said, a thickness in his voice that was rare. Lily came down, saw the tears still lurking in his eyes, and immediately embraced him with one arm. Sirius stood stiffly, a numbness spreading through him that he hadn't felt since Sixth Year. 

"What's wrong, Padfoot?" James asked, placing a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. He could feel his friend trembling. 

"It's Remus. He's the spy." The couple gasped. 

"Surely not -" 

"But it's _Remus_ -" 

"He's a werewolf!" Sirius snapped, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Harry. "That makes him an easy target for Voldemort -" Lily turned as if to shield her baby from the word "- and, really, who else could it be?" James cleaned his glasses, a nervous habit of his. 

"But how can you be sure?" he asked. Sirius sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes to rid them of graininess and the last tears. 

"I asked to see his arm," he muttered reluctantly, "He wouldn't let me." Lily had tears brimming in her own eyes, and was holding Harry a little more tightly. 

"What should we do?" asked James heavily. The clock ticked on the mantlepiece, as if mocking the seconds slipping through their fingers. 

"Change Secret Keepers!" Sirius suddenly exclaimed. They looked at him in confusion. "Too many people will suspect it's me, and Remus _knows_ it is. You have to change, for your own protection." 

"Who to?" Lily queried, choosing practicality over emotion. She could mourn the loss of a dear friend later. James and Sirius looked at each other, engaged in a silent communication they had practiced since childhood. 

"Peter," they said in unison. Harry shifted and whimpered in Lily's arms, but remained asleep. 

"It's perfect," James said. 

"No one will ever suspect him," Sirius agreed. Lily looked a little doubtful, but subsided when James wrapped his arms around her waist comfortingly. There was a deep sadness in Sirius' eye when he saw this, but it was gone before they could question it. "I'll call him," he said, going to the fireplace. 

"But the Charm isn't meant to be cast for another three days," Lily protested. Sirius turned to her with a panicky look around his wide eyes. 

"Don't you see? Remus knows we're on to him. He won't wait now. Voldemort won't wait. We don't have any more _time_. You have to get hidden as quickly as possible." Lily nodded once, and Sirius tossed a pinch of the powder into the fire. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey Peter, it's Sirius. Can you come over?" ... 


End file.
